January 15, 2003

Graying, and Playing With Trains

By TERRY PRISTIN

Fred R. Conrad/The New York Times

Manhattan Train and Hobby, above, and the Red Caboose, a hobby shop across West 45th Street from it, are rivals for a shrinking market.

o past the railroad crossing sign, descend a flight of stairs and there, in a grimy basement store crammed with as many as 100,000 items, Allan J. Spitz can usually be found behind the counter. Often his cat, Kibri, is draped over his shoulders as he briskly dispenses advice to a stream of customers, most of them middle-aged and male.

Mr. Spitz, 56, who conducts business in midwinter wearing torn Bermuda shorts and rubber sandals, is the owner of the Red Caboose, one of two shops specializing in model trains that face each other across 45th Street between Fifth Avenue and the Avenue of the Americas.

The Red Caboose and its neighbor, Manhattan Train and Hobby, are remnants of what was once a thriving little district catering to model train enthusiasts. At one time, there were five such stores on 45th and 46th Streets, including one run by a colorful entrepreneur known as Ma Webster that was in the space now occupied by the Red Caboose. In 1952, that store had 14 employees; Mr. Spitz makes do with two, at most.

The two existing stores are struggling to survive, a reflection of the hobby's waning popularity — nationally, and not just in New York, where apartments seldom can accommodate the space-devouring displays known as layouts. "I don't think there's enough business for two stores," Mr. Spitz said. "I don't know if there's enough business for one store."

In the pre-jet-age 1950's, it seemed as if every boy coveted a train set made by Lionel, once the world's leading toy manufacturer. But these days, model trains are an increasingly geriatric pursuit. Fifteen years ago, the average customer was 43. Today, he — and the customer is almost always a "he" — is at least 50. The average age of members of the National Model Railroad Association, a promotional organization in Chattanooga, Tenn., is 55, said Gordon Belt, the library director.

Today's customer is more likely to be someone like James R. Songer, a Manhattan architect, who returned to model trains after a lapse of many decades, a familiar pattern among older railroaders. At 63, he is trying to recreate the El Dorado, Kan., of his boyhood, when the Santa Fe and Missouri Pacific railroads came through town belching black smoke. Working in N-scale (one-160th the size of an actual train), Mr. Songer expects to spend $12,000 on his meticulously researched project, which will include a doodlebug, the one-car train that shuttled between nearby towns, and the luxury Chief, Super Chief and El Capitan trains.

Mr. Songer said he could still remember what the trains sounded like as they roared through town. "There's nothing that brings such intense pleasure than doing something that takes the skill and patience of a hobby and is connected to those childhood memories," he said.

Michael Dickey, 39, an investment banker who is originally from Pennsylvania, started with an N-scale layout of the Starrucca Viaduct in Susquehanna County, Pa., and accumulated a dozen engines and 60 cars. He painted them to look weathered and painstakingly built scenery.

Now that he has a 3-year-old son, Mr. Dickey has taken up the more kid-friendly G-scale (the real thing is 22.5 times larger), and is storing his N-scale layout in his basement. "You've got to be constantly building," he said.

It is easy to imagine that there are many reasons this kind of exacting work has less appeal to young people than it used to. Model trains are an expensive hobby requiring a combination of skills, from electrical wiring to carpentry to painting, that children absorbed with computers may not have developed. Trains themselves no longer have a hold on the imaginations of those accustomed to swiftly spanning huge distances by airplane.

Mr. Dickey, whose new train set occupies a third of his living room in Larchmont, N.Y., has another explanation: "It's a nerdy hobby," he said.

Ralph Israel, 50, the owner of Manhattan Train and Hobby, finds it sad that the hobby has lost its cachet just as the cabooses and locomotives, even the tiniest ones, look more realistic than ever. "There are a lot more stores like this one closing than opening," he said, "but at the same time, the product has advanced remarkably and is getting better all the time."

Today, most of the engines and cars are made in China, with so much attention to detail that what looks like a tiny speck of paint on, say, a Z-scale gondola, a flat open freight car, will turn out to be actual lettering when held under a magnifying glass. (A Z-scale train is 220th the size of an actual train.) Even Lionel, the nation's oldest manufacturer of toy trains, which was once based in New York, recently moved its manufacturing operations to China.

Model trains come in various price ranges, from a $100 starter set to the $1,500 gold-and-platinum New York Central steam engine and fuel-transporting tender that Lionel issued in 2000 to commemorate its centenary. Antique trains can cost much more.

These days, serious hobbyists are spending more than they used to on more precisely detailed replicas, an average of about $1,300 a year, said Fred Hamilton, the executive director of the Model Railroad Industry Association, an organization based in Seattle that represents 150 manufacturers. "The general consensus is that the hobby itself is pretty stagnant," he said, "but the number of dollars spent has increased."

About 500,000 people in North America are involved with model trains, spending more than $500 million a year, according to Model Railroader magazine, the hobby's bible.

In New York in the 1950's and 60's, a child could equip a toy railroad at stores like Sears, at the local hardware store, or at various hobby shops. Ma Webster's shop was described as the world's largest store devoted exclusively to model railroads. Today, however, the city has only a handful of hobby shops. Nationwide, the number of hobby shops selling model trains has decreased by 25 percent over the last decade, said Terry D. Thompson, Model Railroader's editor. About 10 percent of sales are made over the Internet, he said.

Until recently, Mr. Spitz had the only model train store on 45th Street, and Mr. Israel was his employee. But in 1998, after Mr. Spitz refused to give him a share of his business, Mr. Israel quit and eventually opened his own store. "Instead of a friend and partner," Mr. Israel said of Mr. Spitz, "he's now an enemy and competitor."

Referring to Mr. Israel, Mr. Spitz said, "He wanted a larger percentage than he had equity to donate."

The two men no longer speak, but Mr. Israel said they have established a détente, of sorts. Mr. Spitz sells a lot of radio-controlled cars and model airplane kits and is the exclusive dealer of several lines of subway cars and kits, made in the United States and elsewhere. He also has a steadier flow of customers, who are attracted by the window layout. Mr. Israel, who has no window display because his store is on the second floor, distributed fliers during the holidays pointing out that he and his associates had created that layout.

Mr. Israel offers more personalized service and encourages his customers to hang out in the store.

One of Mr. Israel's regulars is Jacob Newman, 22, a history buff from Elizabeth, N.J. Mr. Newman said there was a simple explanation for his obsession: "It's a miniature world that I have total control of."